


you want to kiss me

by foggys_cupcake_girl



Series: Kinktober 2020 [8]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Burlesque Club, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Burlesque, Confident Credence Barebone, Corsetry, Happy Credence Barebone, I tried to write PWP but a plot crept in there anyway guys I'm sorry, Kinktober, Lingerie, M/M, Percival Graves is a terrible FBI agent, Rimming, Top Credence Barebone, Wall Sex, Young Original Percival Graves, blatant references to Miss Congeniality, but damn he looks good in a corset, corset sex, insecure Percival Graves, seductive dancer Credence, undercover FBI agent Graves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:02:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26906308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggys_cupcake_girl/pseuds/foggys_cupcake_girl
Summary: Rookie FBI agent Percival Graves takes an assignment in a burlesque club...and discovers a few things about himself in the process. Namely that when a cute star dancer offers him a friendly hand, it's very hard to remember his mission.DAY 8 of KinktoberWritten for prompts: Corset |Stalking|Swinging/Partner Swap|Titfucking
Relationships: Credence Barebone/Original Percival Graves
Series: Kinktober 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950283
Comments: 9
Kudos: 19





	you want to kiss me

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry guys I'm not super happy with this one *shrug*
> 
> A friend requested "weepy overwhelmed Graves in stockings and sexy panties." And I...tried to deliver, lol.

Percy looks at himself in the mirror and makes a disgruntled squeaking noise, then quickly wraps the a fluffy robe around himself to hide the get-up he’s wearing. The corset he can cover up…the fishnets, heels, and glitter on his face, however, he can’t. He looks ridiculous and he knows it. This, he thinks a little bitterly, is what he gets for volunteering to go undercover at a burlesque club.

 _I can’t do this,_ he thinks helplessly as he watches the others get ready, laughing and chatting like this is just another day at work. Percy feels sick. Suppose someone he _knows_ is out there? Suppose someone knows he’s…no, he can just say it was for an assignment. He can say they made him…

_But you asked for this assignment. You knew exactly what kind of club this was. You can lie to your boss, Graves, but you can’t lie to yourself: you wanted this._

Percy cringes and sinks to the floor behind a rack of dresses. He draws his knees up as far as he can and tries to bury himself in the fluffy robe. Tears collect in his eyes, likely ruining the eyeliner he knows he didn’t apply correctly. He’s horrified with himself for crying, but figures if he’s going to be hysterical he ought to do it now while no one’s looking.

 _They’re going to laugh, they’re going to know you don’t belong here. Forget getting shot by the target, you’ll be dead of humiliation first. Why the hell did you think you could do this? You’re not a dancer, no one’s going to think you do this for a living, they’ll see you’re a plant—and oh, God, the guys are going to see you, they’ll see on the surveillance footage, they’re all going to_ know—

“Hey, are you all right?”

Percy looks up to see Credence Barebone (that _can’t_ be his real name!) the utterly captivating star dancer. With his dark hair and dark eyes and obscenely long legs and confidence coming off him in waves, he is almost painfully attractive…and now he’s kneeling in front of Percy and looking at him with obvious concern.

“Here, let me help,” Credence says when Percy just stares at him, a deer in the headlights. He gently pulls Percy to his feet. “There, that’s a little better…oh, honey, what’s this?” He reaches out and gently traces the corner of a badly-drawn cat-eye with his fingertip. His own eyes go wide when he catches sight of the drying tears. “Oh, no. Don’t cry, just—here, come with me, I’ll fix it for you.”

“Don’t bother. I can’t do this, I’m not going out there.” Percy lets the robe fall open to reveal the glittering corset and almost-sheer black lace panties. “The last time I was this naked in public I was coming out of a uterus, okay? I just. _Fuck.”_

Credence hums in sympathy. “I know it’s scary. The first time always is. Here, let me fix that eyeliner for you and it’ll be fine. You look really good, trust me.”

“Not next to you, I don’t,” Percy blurts out, and then blushes fiercely; he could kick himself. “You’re…God, you’re perfect.” _Oh, that’s even worse._ “I just mean—you look like you were born wearing this stuff and I feel like I’m about to go trick-or-treating.”

Credence’s eyes go wide. “Oh…can I show you something?” he says, and turns around as he shrugs off the sheer, shimmery wrap carefully pinned around his shoulders. He has to look closely, but once he does, Percy can see why Credence always wears that wrap. The corset covers up most of his back, but all the way up his spine there are sharp white ropes of criss-crossing scars.

Credence turns back around and immediately cups Percy’s face in his hands again. “See, lovely? Everyone’s got _stuff._ You think I’m perfect? It’s flattering, don’t get me wrong, but you have _no idea_ what it took me to get here.” He smooths his thumbs over Percy’s cheeks, no doubt collecting a handful of glitter in the process. “Now let me fix your makeup. It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

“You have no idea how dangerous it is for you to make that promise.”

Credence just laughs. “Oh, I’ve worked here since I was sixteen, honey. Trust me, there’s nothing you can do on that stage tonight that I haven’t seen or done myself.” He fixes the messy eyeliner as quickly and easily as Percy can load a gun. “There. You look great. Stick close to me, I’ll look after you.”

(It’s an amusing statement to make, really, considering that 1) he’s got to be a good five years younger than Percy, and 2) of the two of them Credence is _not_ the one with a pistol strapped to his garter belt.)

Credence holds his hand as they take their places for the show. “I’ll be right over there. Try to relax. Remember, there’s twelve of us up here. No one’s going to be watching you the whole time.”

 _I’d watch you the whole time,_ Percy thinks as he walks away, mesmerized by the sway of Credence’s incredible ass, the squeeze and stretch of his thighs inside his silk stockings. Fuck, but the kid is beautiful, and for a full five seconds Percy lets himself forget he’s here to work, that he’s not supposed to get attached because any one of these people could be in league with the target…

And then the curtain rises, and it’s go time.

~

Through a combination of luck and sheer willpower, Percy does somehow manage to get through the floor show without making a total idiot of himself. He does not manage to make it through the show without making eyes at Credence, but that perhaps could be expected; the boy is absolutely stunning, and he moves to the music like he’s made of it. Burlesque is supposed to be about the tease and boy, does Credence ever nail that.

(And. Not that he’d ever admit it. But…there’s something a little intoxicating about the way the people in the audience look at him, onstage in that corset and those tights. It’s empowering, knowing that someone might take pleasure in looking at him…different than the fear-tinged respect with which people eye his FBI badge…but again: he’ll take that to his grave.) 

He spends his breaks sneaking around looking for dirt on Grindelwald. He gets a bit of good information from the other dancers, most of whom make a disgusted face when he says the name. He learns that the man is abusive, evasive, cold, and doesn’t like anyone other than his fancy VIP friends. He also learns the man has a bit of what for him passes for a soft spot, for one Credence Barebone.

Percy knows he ought to be suspicious, but all he can think is _well, we have something in common then, don’t we?_ He knows he ought to do this calmly, clinically, the way he was taught. Instead, his heart flutters at the thought of speaking to the beautiful young man who’s gone out of his way to be kind.

He needs to get Credence alone. _This is an interrogation,_ he reminds himself sternly as the other dancers file out. He breathes, squares his shoulders, and goes up to the younger dancer’s dressing table. Credence has just finished taking off his eyeliner and is carefully untangling his long hair from his tiara. “I have to talk to you,” Percy says without preamble. “This Grindelwald—everyone’s been warning me to stay away from him. Is he really that bad?”

He lets his voice quiver on the last few words, hoping to play on his vulnerability from earlier. Credence was gentle and friendly when he helped him up and fixed his makeup. If he senses weakness, perhaps he’ll be more likely to talk…and no, it has nothing to do with the fact that his knees begin to weaken when Credence turns those dark eyes on him and looks…oh, no… _concerned?_

“Did he touch you?” Credence demands, quickly getting to his feet. “If he’s put a hand on you, tell Jacob—stage manager, you know? He’s super protective of us and if he knows Grindelwald’s been groping you he can help—Grindelwald does that shit to me all the time, you have to stop him now or he’ll just keep at it no matter how many times you try to make him back off—”

“No, no, nothing like that,” he hastily assures Credence. “No, I’ve just…heard things. And I just…you know…I wanted to ask…”

He tries to take a deep breath and his ribs twinge painfully; he’s not used to his chest being constricted like this. Suddenly there’s a hand on his waist, another wrapped around his shoulders, and Credence is saying softly, “It’s all right, I’ve got you.” He carefully steadies Percy and frowns, concerned. “Haven’t you ever worn a corset before?”

“Not for this long,” Percy says truthfully. He’s never worn a corset in his life, actually. But, well. He’s thought about it.

Credence has no reason to keep holding onto Percy, and yet he does. “It looks good on you,” he says gently. “I know you were feeling a little insecure earlier. But you really have no reason to. You’re good. If you want to stay, I’m sure they’ll keep you around…”

He trails off. Percy notices (and oh, how his heart flutters!) that Credence’s eyes keep darting to his mouth. “So,” he says, trying to get the conversation back on track. _Interrogation,_ he reminds himself desperately. “So, I should—”

“Can I kiss you?” Credence interrupts, something desperate in his dark eyes, and this is just too much—

“Yes, _fuck_ yes—” And then that beautiful mouth is on his and Percy can’t breathe for reasons completely unrelated to the corset. 

His knees turn to actual pudding as Credence swallows him whole, kissing him with a fury that makes him feel more alive than any drug bust ever could. Credence breaks the kiss just long enough to breathe a trembling “Oh, _God,”_ against his lips, and then goes for it again, this time plunging his tongue past Percy’s willingly parted lips.

If dancing in a sparkly corset made him feel sexy, being kissed while wearing a corset and fishnets is so decadent and intoxicating Percy thinks he may actually just melt through the floor. This is the absolute antithesis to everything that was pounded into him at the academy. This is not at all what his father, God rest the man’s soul, had in mind when he said Percy should go undercover…

But oh, does it feel good! He can’t breathe. He really can’t breathe, honestly, he thinks he might faint any second, but Credence tastes so good and his hands are everywhere and _this is so incredible_ and Percy just wants more, more, _more._ Because the best part, really, is that Credence kisses him without fear, without even the tiniest hint of shame. If anyone were to walk in right now, he doubts Credence would shove him behind the clothes rack or make up some excuse about CPR. Credence wants him and doesn’t care if anyone thinks it’s wrong.

Percy finds himself backed up against a stretch of blank wall, with Credence’s mouth devouring his neck. The moans he’s letting out are obscene, desperate little noises that he can’t quite believe are coming from him, and when Credence’s hand drifts to his waist and strokes the narrow strip of bare skin right above the waistband of the lacey panties, he actually whimpers.

Credence detaches his mouth from his neck just long enough to whisper in his ear, “Have you ever fucked another man? If you haven’t it’s okay.”

“I’ve never… _ohhh…”_ Percy’s eyes roll back as Credence’s slim thigh slots itself between his legs. “I’ve never… _done_ the fucking,” he says pointedly, and then gasps when Credence’s teeth sink into his neck.

But Credence is laughing, very softly, and his hands are gentle on Percy’s lower back as he murmurs, “Well then. Would you like me to—”

“Yes,” Percy blurts out before he can stop himself. He grinds helplessly down against the thigh between his legs and adds, “I don’t even care. Whatever you’ve got in mind, _yes.”_

Credence licks a stripe up his neck. “I want to turn you around,” he murmurs, “and pull down these very nice panties you’ve got on here, and I want to fuck you. How does that sound?”

He seals his mouth over Percy’s, and the answer (something like _hell yes)_ that was forming in Percy’s mind vanishes, as does every other thought he’s ever had. He forgets that he’s here for a job, that Credence could be a target, that he’s not here to get laid and feel pretty in a corset but to catch a bad guy. All he cares about right now is the feeling of Credence’s sensitive skin under his hands, the silkiness of his soft black hair, the taste of those sweet, plump red lips.

“I want you,” he gasps when Credence pulls away. “Like. I want you in the _worst_ fucking way. I want you in me, like…five minutes ago.”

Credence laughs against his panting mouth. “I can’t time travel, honey. But if you turn around I can show you a very, _very_ good time.”

Percy lets Credence spin him around and press him face-first into the wall. He’s ordered to stay there, and he does even though the loss of Credence’s warmth against his body makes him whimper. He hears the open and close of a drawer and then the long, firm line of Credence’s body is against his again, and he all but sobs in relief. “Please don’t let go of me again,” he groans as Credence sucks a messy red love-bite into the back of his neck.

“Oh, Percy, I absolutely will not,” Credence promises. “Now. Let me…”

He runs his hands down the length of Percy’s back, toying gently with the corset strings. “I could pull these tight,” he whispers against the wet back of Percy’s neck, making him shiver. “I could make you dizzy. Could make you _gasp._ You’d be totally helpless and I could just pin you against this wall and have my way with you…”

“Fuck,” is Percy’s intelligent reply to that.

“Mmm.” Credence grabs Percy’s ass with both hands and moans loudly. “Fuck, you’re hot. Saw you sitting on the floor back there and all I could think about for a second was getting you on your knees.” Percy groans appreciatively at the image, and then all but yelps as Credence rips apart the flimsy lace fabric of his panties with his bare hands. 

“Fuck,” he gasps again, and then cries out when Credence suddenly kneels behind him and sinks his teeth into the meat of his ass. “Oh my God! What—”

“I’m gonna eat you out before I fuck you,” Credence replies, in the same tone one might say _I’m going to McDonald’s for dinner._ “And you’d better not come until I tell you it’s all right.”

Percy makes a noise that he isn’t quite sure is even human, but it must sound to Credence like assent, because the next thing he knows, those long-fingered hands have parted his cheeks and something warm and wet is probing at his entrance. His knees buckle and he scrabbles for purchase on the wall, breathing so hard he makes the drywall in front of his mouth damp. “Credence, _Jesus—”_

“Mmm,” Credence moans into his ass. “Mmm, so good.” He continues, licking harder and deeper, pausing now and then to curl his tongue against the edge of the rim before thrusting in again, eating Percy out like it’s his last hope of a decent meal.

Percy feels…transcendent. Beautiful. Like he’s completely ascended to another level of existence and will never again be able to stand on solid earth again. What Credence is doing to him feels great, yes, but more than that, he feels wanted. It’s been a long time since he was the sole focus of a partner like this, and he’s…oh, there’s no other way to say it, his body is hungry for it. He wants this moment to drag on for the rest of his life, wants every piece of his future to dematerialize and rearrange itself around Credence Barebone.

It doesn’t take long for him to start babbling like an idiot, and not long after that he starts outright begging. “I need you to fuck me,” he gasps, his tongue feeling heavy and swollen in his mouth, his eyes all but permanently rolled up into his head. “Please, sweetheart, I need you inside me, _fuck_ I need you.”

Credence kisses up his back, even over the rough glittery surface of the corset, all the way up to his neck. He grabs a handful of Percy’s hair and uses it to turn his head, joining their mouths in a rough, messy kiss. “I want to be inside you. Can you wait just a second for me to prepare you, lovely?”

“I don’t kn— _ahhh,”_ Percy groans, knees buckling again as Credence slides a finger into him. “Yeah. Okay. You can—ah, yeah. That’s—that’s good.”

Credence teases him for a good while, working first one slick finger into him and then two, just barely grazing his prostate until Percy is squirming and utterly, unbearably desperate for it. A third finger, and he’s ready to pass out. “Please,” he begs as Credence twists those wonderful fingers inside him, _“please,_ baby, you’re killing me here.”

Credence laughs softly and gently bites his neck again. “Mmm. You want me to fuck you, honey? Because I will—make you scream, everyone on the street out there will hear you, hear how good I’m fucking you—”

He chooses that moment to directly tease the spot that makes Percy writhe, and Percy _wails,_ humping the wall like an animal, so hard it _hurts._ “Please,” he gasps, squirming helplessly in Credence’s arms. “Fuck. _Please.”_

He hears the rip and snap of a condom being opened and put on, and then something blunt and hard at his entrance. His eyes roll back again as Credence slides into him, a punched-out sound ripping itself from his gasping mouth. “Oh. Oh God,” Credence groans as he pushes in. “So _hot…_ so _tight,”_ he breathes. “Your ass is fucking _perfect.”_

Percy moans and lets his head tip back against Credence’s shoulder. “Please, sweetheart, give it to me. I can take it.”

“Oh, you will.” Credence rolls his hips, steady and slow, giving Percy a little time to get used to the feeling. But he soon tires of that, it seems, and snaps forward, hitting something deep inside Percy that makes him cry out. “Oh, there it is,” he grins, and sets a rough pace that lights Percy up from the inside out.

Percy can barely stay upright. The corset won’t let him slump, won’t let him relax into the wall, and it’s cutting off just enough of his air supply to make him breathe a little harder, a little more shallow— _just_ enough to feel dizzy. And Credence is, as promised, taking him hard, relentless, hitting him where it counts on every stroke and—

“Are you gonna come for me?” Credence whispers in his ear, yanking at a handful of his hair and making him cry out. “You gonna make a mess all over the wall? Gonna scream for me?”

Percy gasps out a yes, and Credence yanks his hair one more time as he slams inside—once, twice, and then—oh _God_ —Percy comes, hard, liquid molten pleasure searing through him and splattering across the wall as Credence continues those hard, deep thrusts. Seconds later he feels warmth bloom inside him as Credence climaxes too, and impossibly he feels another wave of pleasure roll over him. Credence shudders, the movement rocking the places their bodies are joined, and it’s so intense and so intimate that Percy actually, audibly sobs as he lets his head drop forward against the wall.

 _Some agent I am,_ he thinks hazily as he stumbles backwards and Credence catches him. _Brought to my knees by a good fuck from a beautiful boy._

“Easy there,” he hears Credence say as he’s guided to the dressing-room couch. “Easy, lovely. I’ve got you. Shit, Percy, can you hear me? You with me? Fuck…I’m sorry, I should’ve realized…” He feels Credence’s hands working at the ties of his corset and, a few moments later, he’s made dizzy all over again by the first proper breath of air he’s had all night.

“Thanks,” he says when the haze clears from his eyes. Credence, he’s pleased to see, looks as wrecked as Percy feels. That perfect black hair is in total disarray, his lips are swollen and redder than ever, his pale face flushed all the way down his neck. “Wow. We just…did that, didn’t we.”

Credence nods and squeezes his hand. “I was, uh. Planning on asking you out first,” he admits with a sheepish little grin. “But I mean…I don’t regret it, do you?”

“No, I don’t.”

And he doesn’t. Not for a minute. Percy thinks he could easily come to regret a lot of his life choices—joining the FBI, for starters—but letting Credence Barebone make love to him is not on that list.

He’ll have to tell Credence the truth about who he is and what he’s doing here, sooner rather than later, because he doesn’t want to keep lying to Credence just as they’re starting something. He’ll have to do some soul-searching, really, because he’s had more fun just being a burlesque dancer tonight than he ever did as an FBI agent. He’ll have to ask Credence on a real date, and maybe pick up some condoms on the way home afterward because he’s not sure he has any and they’ll definitely come in handy. He’ll have to find out where Queenie, the perky blonde costumer, finds these corsets, because he definitely wants one.

But right now, he just wants to hold this beautiful boy’s hand, and bask in the afterglow of what started off as the weirdest and most terrifying night of his life, but now may well be the best.


End file.
